


A Quiet Kind of Distance

by Tia_Pixie



Series: The Hobbit Related Fics [4]
Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Apparently I can't write anything happy, Companion Piece, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-26 03:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tia_Pixie/pseuds/Tia_Pixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the events of 'Do Not Speak to Me of Loss'.  Kili is not oblivious to the turmoil between his brother and Uncle.  Fili is oddly distant and Thorin doesn't seem to care. </p><p>Cue general turmoil, confusion and concern.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kili

**Author's Note:**

> This is a companion piece to my other story 'Do Not Speak to Me of Loss'. You might just about get away with not reading that one for this chapter but there will be continual references to the events in that so I would advise reading it first. 
> 
> This chapter (and those that follow unless stated otherwise) takes place DURING the events of 'Loss, between the second and third sections. In some ways, that one can be considered a prologue and epilogue (for Fili & Thorin at least), but it should become clearer once all the chapters for this are up.

* * *

I allowed Fili to lead me away from our Uncle; he had, as Fili said, looked to be in need of solitude - an increasingly rare luxury now that we were entering more hostile land.  He did not however lead me back to the camp, rather he drew me away and towards the ponies.  We watched them graze for a time, every so often leading one back when they strayed too far from the others.  I waited, as patiently as I could bear, for Fili's lecture to begin - we shouldn't have made that joke, we were too old to be playing silly pranks on people like that, Thorin needed us to be more mature.  And so on.  He could lecture all he liked, had in fact begun to before heading out to speak with our Uncle, but I would not be swayed.  The company needed  _somebody_ to keep their spirits up.  As much as I loved our Uncle, he had grossly overeacted before (though I had the sense not to tell _him_ that); if he had not, we could all have had a good laugh at how the silly little hobbit couldn't tell the difference between an orc and a wolf.  Besides, Fili had joined in perfectly willingly until Thorin had said his piece.  Yes, I looked forward to hearing how Fili condemned my actions without apportioning any of the blame to himself.

Still, Fili had not spoken.  It was beginning to get unsettling - he didn't really intend a reprimand, did he?  I leant against the tree trunk beside him, nudging his shoulder with my own when he still did not speak.

“Maybe we should ask Thorin to turn back.”

I stared at my brother, aghast and floundering for a minute.  Turn back?  This was our chance – our first real adventure – we would go down in history for our parts in this.  Parents would tell stories about this quest for generations; would whisper our names over their children’s slumber in the hope they might grow to be like us.  And he wanted to turn back?  No!  What was he thinking?! 

“WHY?!”

Fili hesitated, gazing off in the direction we had come though I had the impression he did not see.

“Fili, why?”  I didn’t intend it to, but it may have come out as a bit of a whine.  But no matter, my brother was being ridiculous. He couldn’t do this to me.  If Thorin allowed him to turn back then he would send me too and I needed this.  Fili had already earned his second and third braids albeit only in the past year or so but still – this was my chance even if it wasn’t his.   

“We…we don’t belong here any more than a hobbit,” he said at last, “We’re a disappointment to him.”

 “To Thorin?”  I asked though I did not need to, Fili‘s eyes continuously wandered in the direction of our uncle.  “No.  No, we’re not.” Shaking my head, I sat staring at my brother, trying to puzzle him out as I normally did.  “Fili, he wants us here,” I told him determinedly.  “He does.  Earlier on, it was…it was a misunderstanding!  But…we apologised – it’s over with now.”  I swallowed, suddenly afraid – _was_ it over with?  Something was wrong between my brother and Uncle but surely it was nothing worth this.  Well aware that I sounded like a child, I added, “Uncle said so.”

He made a strange, disbelieving sound, something like a laugh but…horrible.  “ _A_ _misunderstanding_?” he mimicked, staring at me with what I suddenly realised was shame in his eyes, “What did he misunderstand, Kili?  We mocked the deaths of – of hundreds of our own people!”

A cold guilt settled in the pit of my stomach and I shook my head again.  Vehemently.  “No,” I told him, “No, Fili.  That wasn’t what we did! We – ”  I broke off, horrified.  Had we?  Was that how our uncle had seen it?  “It was just a joke, and he forgave us.”  I finished weakly. 

He gave the same not-quite-laugh again, rubbing his hands across his face.  “You’re such a child sometimes.”

Anger flared in me.  I was a child? _I_ was a child?  “You didn’t want to come in the first place!” I accused him, jumping to my feet and pacing.  I had a funny, clenching feeling deep inside that I was _missing_ the real issue but _how_ dare he?! “When Thorin came, you hesitated!  YOU wanted to stay at home and play in your precious forge – it was me who answered him!  When Thorin came – ”

“He only came for me, Kili.”

I stopped.  For a moment, we simply stared at each other, meeting each other’s gaze unfalteringly.  I laughed.  “What?”

“When…” Fili looked away and I got the impression he was planning his words carefully as usual – don’t cause offence, think before you speak, wrap it up in pretty words until it can’t hurt anyone because they don’t know what you’re saying!  What had he meant ‘he only came for me’?  Thorin had asked for us both – as his nephews, we were both entitled to our place in his company, a piece of the glory.  Why would my brother say such a thing?

“Fili, what do you mean?”

“He said…that you were too young, that you weren’t ready.”

I had often felt as though someone – usually when caught in mischief by my Mother or Uncle – had pulled the rug from under me, as it were, but never before had I felt so entirely humiliated, furious and devastated as I did then.  Not ready?  Thorin had trained us all our lives for the day when our chance to reclaim Erebor came – how could he have judged me to be unfit where my brother was not? I should have felt even more determined to prove myself to them all but if Thorin, and my brother, who knew my capabilities and my soul – better even than my own Mother – thought me somehow…wanting, then how could I continue?  I suddenly felt entirely useless. I was…a liability.  “But,” I began helplessly, “I’m of age.”

“By all of seven years, Brother.”

“It’s enough!”

“No, it’s NOT!”  Fili was suddenly on his feet too, fists clenched at his sides.  I took up my own stance.  We did not often come to blows, my brother and I, but when we did I was fiercely determined to better him.  I was taller than he was and moved quicker but he had bulk and brute strength from the forges on his side.  He paused, frowning at me in surprise and I belatedly realised he had not in fact intended an assault.  He suddenly looked me up and down as if sizing me up, an oddly melancholy look in his eyes.

“Fili?” I asked uncertainly.  I had been wrong-footed by his sudden change in demeanour; angry, I could manage – violent, even – but this was something strange.  He looked almost fearful.  It was the same look, I realised, as he had worn when I came across him and our Uncle earlier in the evening before we had reconciled with him.

“Defend yourself,” he said, so softly I almost missed it. 

I stepped backwards, eyes narrowed.  How in Durin’s name had our peaceful night of watching ponies had suddenly descended into this? 

“Kili,” he said louder, drawing one of his hunting knives, “Defend yourself!”

I was transfixed; staring, horrified at the blade, I continued to back away.  We had sparred before of course, we had and, as I said, we had fought, as brothers do.  But this?  I was unarmed but for my bow – I could not defend myself properly with no weapon!  I began to tell him so but suddenly, he rushed at me knocking me to the ground with his shoulder in my stomach. 

I pushed at him, scrabbling for a grip on his clothes or hair with which to drag him off me, trying to knee him in the stomach – anything to at least give pause to this madness.  And all the while, he kept up a constant litany of stern rebukes as I failed again and again to stop him – ‘ _Come on! Defend yourself, Brother_!’ and _‘Kili! You can do better than this!_ ’ – never once raising his voice or crying out when my strikes made their targets.  In response, I writhed and kicked, pushed at him, grabbed at his knife, occasionally replying with equally quiet sounds of well…distress.

“This isn’t fair!” I heard myself gasp out at one point, cringing at my own childishness.  “Fili!  I’m unarmed!”

“That shouldn’t matter – fight back!”  He demanded, shaking me roughly.  Fight back?  Was he mad?  It was all I could do to defend myself let alone launch a counter-attack.  It was taking all my strength as it was to hold his arms away from me, to stop him driving down at me with his sharp knife.

One of the ponies whinnied and we both looked up, stilling our fighting and glancing around.  All seemed well – I could see my brother counting them up before glancing down at me.  Our eyes met, a momentary truce then.

Never let it be said that the House of Durin does not resort to underhanded tactics to win fights.  The way I see it, you do what you have to in order to win and principles be damned.  Besides, I had hardly been expecting my brother to come at me with a knife.  He scanned the ponies again and I seized my chance.  I brought my knees up and kicked him hard with both legs sending him sprawling away from me with a satisfying ‘oof!’.  I grabbed the knife from where he had dropped it in his surprise and held it out in front of me.  He glanced warily at it before giving me a small smile.

“Come, little brother,” he said breathlessly, standing up straight and gesturing for me to go at him, “Don’t be afraid.”

Afraid?  I scowled, deeply affronted but he nodded pointedly at my arm.  I risked a glance down.  I was shaking, terrified.  We had run this before in training of course, Uncle would never have allowed us to go without it but that had been so…safe compared to this.  Here, there was no healer waiting off the field or Uncle waiting to declare our battle over with once one of us was ‘killed’ by a touch of the other’s blade.  I felt a sudden tightness in my throat and I shook my head, wide eyed. 

“Kili, defend yourself.”  He repeated for the umpteenth time. 

I had barely registered how ludicrous his words were – after all, I was the one holding the blade – before he charged at me once more.  A few brief moments of scuffling, all caution thrown to the wind as I swung out at him and he in turn ducked and dived around me until he finally grabbed hold of my wrist and yanked it up behind my back, knocking my knees out from under me as he did so.  I cried out.

“And now,” he stated, sounding oddly furious, straddling me and leaning over where I lay breathlessly struggling on the earth, “I kill you.”  I glanced down my body and realised that he could indeed, quite easily, have slit me open then and there from my stomach to my shoulders and there would have been absolutely nothing I could have done about it.

To my horror, I felt my eyes filling.  I was…scared.  Of my brother, of all the dangers awaiting us out here and the sudden realisation that I may not be able to defend myself, let alone Fili or our companions.  As if waking from a daze, he leapt off me, dropping to a nearby log and covering his face with his arms.  I edged closer.  He was shaking – worse than me even.  I sniffed and wiped at my nose a couple of times before sitting down next to him. 

“I understand,” I assured him hesitantly, realisation dawning.  He was afraid.  Fili, my loyal, wonderful, embarrassingly-stronger-than-me big brother was afraid for me.  Placing one hand on his arms, I pulled his arms away from his face – rather, he allowed me to do so – and ducked my head round to look into it.  He smiled tremulously, reaching out one hand to my cheek.  He looked a sight though I doubted I looked any better.  If nothing else, my brother’s braids were still mostly intact and that was a mercy for I did not fancy either of our chances at reforming them by fire light.

Abruptly, he turned to me properly, wrapping his arms around my stomach and tucking his head beneath my chin.  On reflex, I wrapped my own arms about him; it was a strange reversal of our usual positions.  “I’ll try harder,” I promised him, feeling him squeeze tighter in response.  I bit my lip and reminded myself of the shame it would bring to not only us but to our entire family – Mother and Uncle anyway – if we were to return to The Blue Mountains so soon.  “Fili, please don’t make us turn back.”

My brother went so still, it seemed he had stopped breathing.  “If…if anything happens to you, I – ”

“But it won’t,” I said easily, leaning back from him, “because you and Uncle will always be there.”  I wondered if I had imagined the way his face darkened at the mention of our uncle. “As you’ve always been,” I added smiling in what I hoped was a reassuring way.  It was my best impression of him, so I certainly hoped it looked reassuring.

He sat up straight, drawing several tremulous breaths.  “Kili,” he said eventually, “that might not always be enough.”

Within me, I felt my adult half telling me that I knew that, that of course I might have to stand alone eventually but my other half, the childish, fearful part of me that I had tried to keep hidden from all but my brother and Uncle on this journey begged for reassurances and empty promises.  “Yes, it will,” I argued softly even as he shook his head. 

“No, it – did you hear that?” Both of us stood, suddenly alert and staring around us, duty and concern for our companions preventing us from dwelling any further on the matter for now.  “Kili,” my brother murmured, pressing his knife back into my hand, “Be ready.”

Presently, Mr Baggins came trotting through the undergrowth towards us and beside me, I felt Fili release a great sigh of relief.  I found myself laughing, whoever heard of anyone – dwarf or man or any other creature- afraid of a _hobbit_?  Fili shot me sheepish grin, though it was still far too shadowed for my liking.

“Hullo!” cried Mr Baggins as he approached us, peering closely at us no doubt wondering why I laughed, “Are you two erm, all right?”

“Why shouldn’t we be?” 

The hobbit looked slightly taken aback at Fili’s abruptness.  To be frank, it surprised me a little too for he had seemed quite fond of him (despite our ill-advised teasing earlier).  “Well…I just thought, well, earlier on Thorin, he seemed erm,” Mr Baggins stammered for a few seconds, rocking uneasily on his heels.  I felt quite sorry for the chap.  “He’s a bit grouchy, isn’t he?”

To say my brother’s face darkened would be like saying that winter in Ered Luin can be a little chilly.  “That’s hardly any of your concern, is it?”

“Fili,” I began uncertainly.  Why was he being like this?  I could not fathom what our unfortunate burglar could have done to inspire such uncharacteristic coldness and I told him so.  I swear by my beard (such as it is), my brother grows more like our Uncle with each passing day.  “He’s always been like that, Bilbo,” I explained as dismissively as I could with the memory of our Uncle’s hurt still so fresh in my mind.  Turning to my brother, I added, “Thorin carries a great many demons, doesn’t he?  Sometimes they get the better of him, that’s all.”

Fili frowned at me thoughtfully, as if he were trying to puzzle something out.  “That’s true,” he murmured, nodding slightly.  “I’m sorry, Bilbo – I shouldn’t have snapped.  Were you simply seeking our _pleasant_ company,” here, he grinned apologetically, “Or did you come with a message?”

Biblo looked between us, completely perplexed at my brother’s change of mood.  I was a little startled myself but it seemed genuine enough.  “Bilbo?” I prompted when he did not speak.

“Oh! Right, yes,” he said quickly, “Erm, Thorin says your watch is over and you’re to come back now.”

“Perhaps _Thorin_ should tell us so himself,” Fili muttered darkly.

 “There now,” I grinned proudly, trying to ignore the lurch in my stomach at Fili’s tone, “He can’t still be angry or we’d be on double watches.”

“Righto, you’re er, you’re coming back then are you?”

I flashed Bilbo a smile and told him we’d be with him shortly.  “And don’t let Bombur eat all the food!”  I called to his retreating back before turning back to my brother.  I contemplated him whilst he counted and recounted the ponies, collected our various trappings and coats and generally avoided my gaze.  It irked me.

“What’s wrong, Fili?”  I asked, sighing.  I was done with being patient; everyone – particularly my brother – knows _Fili_ is the good, patient one and _I’m_ the stubborn, disrespectful one.  That is the way of things.

“Nothing,” he smiled, gesturing for me to ‘lead on’.

I was so used to obeying – well, agreeing with – my brother that I had half turned to do so before stopping and throwing down my bow and quiver.  I was not moving.  Not until he told me what was wrong; I could be patient, I had had years of arguing with my brother, mother and Uncle and hoping that ‘ _just this time’_ I would be able to wait them out.  I drew myself up to my not-inconsiderable height, glaring down at my brother in what I hoped resembled our Uncle’s stern stare.

“No,” I said, folding my arms, “What’s wrong?”

“Kili,” Fili dragged out my name, a sure sign that he was getting tired of me.  So be it, I had not exactly been thrilled with him when he attacked me.  Twice.

“No!” I’m ashamed to say I stamped my foot.  Actually, honestly, truly, stamped my foot like a little dwarfling not getting his way.  I didn’t care, I was angry.  “Fili, I’m tired and I’m hungry, we’ve been lectured in front of the entire company, you have threatened to leave this quest, you have attacked me – _twice_ – and you are _clearly_ at odds with Thorin and I,” I broke off, the chilling uneasiness I had felt when observing my brother and Uncle together seeping back in, “and I do not understand _why.”_

If he told me it was not my concern, or that it did not matter again, I was going to swing for him.  Again.

“If it’s because you’re worried, or because _Uncle_ is worried or one of you truly wants us to leave,” I began, hoping that the latter was not the case, “then just…just tell me.”

* * *

 


	2. Fili I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I awoke in the chilled dawn, my heart thudding against my chest and Kili’s shirt twisted in my grasp. Sleep did not seem to come easily after that, if indeed it came at all. I lay listening to my younger brother’s snores, loud and unnecessarily bold like the rest of him, but so wonderfully, blessedly alive."

* * *

I stared at him, irresolute.  Could I tell him?  Did I want to?  Kili had not the same relationship with our Uncle that I had, it was neither more, nor less, just different somehow.  I was well aware that as the eldest, I alone had suffered through our Uncle’s attempting to negotiate being our Uncle as well as maintaining his position with our fellows whereas by the time Kili arrived five years later, our parents had managed to beat some love, some affection out of our Uncle.  Besides, I was his heir.  Thorin expected more from me because more had always been expected from him whereas Kili assumed his tolerance came naturally and unabashedly worshipped our Uncle.  I was not bitter about it; it was simply how things were.  Telling my brother of Thorin’s actions towards me earlier would damage that though. 

On the other hand, I had scared Kili earlier – scared myself in fact – and now he stood here near begging me to explain to him why the two people closest to him could not get along anymore.  It was becoming a choice between my brother’s relationship with Thorin or ith me.  My Uncle be damned, I was going to be selfish.

“He hit me.” 

Almost as soon as I said the words, I longed to swallow them back down, make them unsaid.  What had I done?  Kili adored our Uncle – as did I, most of the time – and I had ruined that simply because I cared more for my brother’s opinion of me than his relationship with our Uncle. 

“He what?” To my surprise, Kili did not sound angry or disbelieving, in fact, he sounded faintly amused.  I opened my eyes – not realising I had closed them – and stared at him uncertainly.  He smirked back, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

“He…hit me,” I repeated slowly, unsure whether to be hurt or grateful for Kili’s lack of outrage. 

“I knew I was wise to send you ahead,” he crowed, shaking his head.  “Oh, Fili, I thought – I thought something awful had happened between you two!  I’ve been worried all evening!”

Hurt.  I was most definitely hurt.

“Don’t you care?” I asked him incredulously – had our roles been reversed I’d have been half way back to the camp by now to knock some sense back into Thorin.  Our Uncle’s assault and the awful things he had said had deeply wounded me – I did not feel I had overreacted earlier and yet here my brother laughed at it!  “Kili, he…he said some terrible things,” I added, though I had no intention of going into detail.  Let Kili continue to think it was only my overprotective tendencies that had led to our ‘sparring’ earlier rather than the cold hard truth of how our mother’s brothers had been parted. 

Grinning, Kili came to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.  “Uncle always does when he’s angry, he says things he doesn’t mean,” he told me still smirking, as if I were being very stupid, “Fili, we played a childish, thoughtless prank on Bilbo and Uncle took offense!  He cuffed you, and that’s humiliating – I’m sorry I didn’t share in your ‘punishment’ – but this?  Fili, apologise to him and be done.  This is ridiculous.”

Realisation came swiftly after that, my brother wore his usual grin reserved for the rare occasions when I was in trouble and he was not.  Clearly, he had misunderstood my explanation, did not realise the extent to which our Uncle had hurt me with that one blow.  Although there was a part of me that screamed in angered disbelief at my brother’s confidence in our Uncle’s righteousness, a still larger part rejoiced that I had not in fact destroyed the love between my little brother and the closest thing he had ever known to a father.  I forced a smile, resolving to allow my brother this fantasy. 

“I know,” I told him, nodding, “I know, it’s childish.  I shouldn’t try to drag you into it.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was…ashamed,” I shrugged, playing into his misinterpretation.  That much was true at least, I had been ashamed, still was in fact.  For all I wished he had held his temper, Thorin had been right to be so furious with us and our insensitivity to the history of our people – of our kin.  We started walking back to the camp, Kili sniggering every so often – though I begrudged his ignorance, I could not begrudge him his happiness.  “Kili,” I began quietly as we neared the camp, “I am not ready to forgive.”

Kili shot me a look of annoyance which I fancied had more to do with the fact that he would have to spend the evening to-ing and fro-ing between Thorin and me rather than because I was choosing to carry this grudge any longer.  “He’s forgiven us,” he pointed out as if I were being deliberately troublesome, grabbing my sleeve as if to lead me over to Thorin.  “Come on,” he coaxed, smirking, “He’s probably forgotten all about it now.”

I sincerely doubted it, somehow. 

My brother suddenly shot our Uncle a look that promised such mischief that I felt my heart skip a beat.  “Kili, don’t,” I told him quickly, in my best ‘second in line to the throne’ voice, “Not tonight, let him be.”

He scowled, clearly annoyed at my refusal to be drawn in to his clowning around.  “I’m not afraid of him,” he stated, full of his usual bravado, “or you.” He relented though, settling himself next to Ori, Nori and Bofur.

“Are you really not afraid of Thorin, Kili?”

“Nope,” my brother grinned, eyes glittering proudly at the awe in Ori’s voice.  It amazed me sometimes how easily my brother could shrug things off – a few kind words from Thorin and suddenly his world was at rights again.

Rolling my eyes, I resisted the impulse to regale Ori with stories of how my brother had so courageously allowed me to smooth things over with Thorin earlier, or of how he had so bravely cowered and pleaded with me when I went at him in our little spat.  I spent the rest of the evening alternately fuming at both Thorin and, to a lesser extent, Kili.  I chatted as normally as I could bear with Bilbo, joined in the slightly crude jokes made by Bofur and the others, and gallantly ignored the veiled teasing by my brother.  At one point, I forced myself to meet Thorin’s gaze, raising my chin a little before turning away – a small of part of me warned that such defiance tonight was unwise to say the least – but he made no attempt to approach us.  I felt his eyes boring into me the rest of the night.

He did not speak to me at all that evening, did not attempt to engage with me in any way in fact.  Kili seemed unwilling to be parted from me (something that I was tremendously pleased about) and I suspect it was for his sake that Thorin eventually approached us. 

“You two are a sight,” he declared abruptly, tugging on Kili’s single braid, which had become decidedly unravelled in our scrap.  I froze, turning to them from where I had been laying out my bedroll.  Kili ducked away, grinning sheepishly at Thorin, and seeming to take great delight in my discomfort.  To say I envied him his ignorance would be a gross understatement. 

“We’ll remake them before we set off again, Uncle,” Kili offered, hands rising to fully remove his braid ready to be redone in the morning. 

Thorin ‘hmmed’ at him, raising one eyebrow and a hand to touch Kili’s slightly ripped shirt where I had gotten a little…overzealous in our tussle.  “And this?”

 “We were sparring,” I informed him quietly, feeling my fists clenching, “It got out of hand.”

“Sparring?” Thorin looked at me for the first time, an odd narrow-eyed look on his face.  He turned back to Kili.  “And the victor?”

“Kili.”

My brother and Uncle both turned surprised eyes on me, I fancied there was something a little disbelieving in Thorin’s eyes.  I met that look with the closest I could summon to defiance.

“Kili?” Thorin repeated vaguely, my brother nodding vigorously.  “Well, well…” he clapped my little brother on the shoulder.  “You will bed here tonight?” he asked suddenly, nodding at where we had half laid out our bedding.

Kili glanced at me before nodding reluctantly.  I had expected Thorin to argue, insist that we bed nearer him as usual but he merely nodded, wishing us a restful night and retreating to his own blankets away from us.  My brother shot me a slightly confused, almost bereft look, before lying down and turning away from me.  I scowled – I had not forbade him from going near Thorin, if my brother wished to sleep elsewhere then he was welcome to do so!  Still, thoughts of orcs and battles and gruesome deaths began to invade my thoughts once more and I was suddenly glad to have him so near, even if he was clearly sulking.

“Why did you tell him I won?”  He asked, not turning.

I considered that, settling next to him under my blanket.  Why, indeed.  I could not, in all honesty, say that it was for Kili’s sake.  In fact, angry and hurt as I was by Thorin, it was as much for his sake as mine and my brother’s.  “Because he has enough to worry about,” I answered eventually, hoping Kili would leave it at that, “And you’ll be fine, if you practice a little more.”

“I couldn’t throw you off,” he admitted, eyes downcast as he turned to me finally.  “I was trying…but I just…I felt so – “

“I know,” I assured him, saving him the embarrassment of admitting he had been afraid of me, if only a little.  And that he felt so so weak compared to me.  I knew those feelings well, having experienced them all too recently myself.  Neither of them were his fault; the truth was that he had shown such natural talent for the bow that we had all quite focused him on that instead of hand-to-hand.  It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight in close combat, it was just that he had not been trained as rigorously in it as I had – it had just not seemed necessary, after all, I was always there with him.  That wasn’t enough now.  Having a brother nearby, even one as mighty as Thorin, had not been enough to save our other uncle, Frerin.  We knew the circumstances of his death – rather, we knew he had perished in battle at Azanulbizar – but never had anyone made it so clear to me as Thorin had tonight.  I wasn’t enough to protect Kili anymore than Thorin had been Frerin; I could take my eyes of my little brother for a mere moment and have him snatched away from me never to return.

Barely realising I was doing so, I stretched out one hand to curl in his shirt – an instinct almost as old as he was, bred from years of keeping in one place a brother who seemed incapable of sleeping though the night – I had not done so in years, decades maybe.  He stared at my hand, brows knit and eyes uncharacteristically serious.  Slowly, deliberately, I released my grasp, forcing myself to breath past the tightness in my chest as I did so. 

I cast my eyes downwards towards the earth, though I turned on my side to face Kili.  His gaze, which had followed my hand as I retracted it, was now trained on my face; I closed my eyes.  Curled fingers, so familiar to me, brushed my rapidly bruising cheekbone; I winced.

“Did _I_ do that?”

I kept my eyes firmly closed, willing him, for once, to understand that while I wanted him near me, I did not wish to speak anymore.  I wanted sleep, more fervently than I could ever recall.  A few moments of silence followed and I hoped beyond hope that he would leave it at that.  Alas, it was not to be.

“Fili?” I felt him shuffle closer to me, could hear him breathing he was so close.  “Did I do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause then, “No, I didn’t.”

I snorted, wondering why he had asked at all if he was so convinced of his own innocence in it.  Though, in reality, I knew why he had asked.  It did not take long for me to be proven right.

“What really happened with Thorin?”

I very rarely regretted my ability to read my brother’s thoughts as if they were my own, as to a somewhat lesser extent, could he, this however was one such time.  Though his question near demanded an answer, I could hear – almost _feel –_ the underlying wish to be told my earlier falsehood.  _Everything is fine, little brother.  I am simply sulking._ The words were in fact on the tip of my tongue.  Still, I summoned up my share of legendary dwarven stubbornness, gritted my teeth and determined to wait him out.

“He was…very angry,” Kili tried again.  I could just picture the look of absolute innocence that would be gracing his features – he was not _prying_ , no interfering, not at all, simply making an observation.  Our mother was extremely talented at ‘just saying’ as well.  “Furious, even.”

“Kili,” I sighed, not opening my eyes, “please.”

He was silent for a few minutes and I heard him flipping over again, away from me.  I let him fume, hoping the day would catch up to him and he would sleep ere he thought of any new ways to coax the truth from me.  Vaguely, I wondered why he did not simply ask Thorin.  There was no earthly reason why he should not, after all, Thorin had been as much a part of our quarrel as I had.  In fact, my part in it had been rather well, _passive_.

Eventually, after I had listened to him working himself up into a fine temper, I felt my brother’s eyes upon me again.  “You _cannot_ keep this from me,” he hissed angrily, though I was pleased to note he seemed as reluctant as I to wake any of our companions.  I did not speak.  “I am not a child, Fili, this isn’t fair!”

I opened one eye, hoping with that to express my utter incredulity at his putting those phrases in the same sentence.  He swallowed, looking faintly annoyed at himself.  I returned to my ‘sleep’.  The thing that truly irked me at present was that my brother is not unintelligent.  He was not incapable of surmising the nature of our altercation himself, so why on earth he felt he had to wheedle it out of me was quite beyond me. 

Except that I did know why he would not speak the truth of it himself, and it was for the same reasons as myself.  To speak of _this_ aloud, would fly in the face of everything we had been raised to know. Thorin’s temper was legendary, as were the losses he had suffered, but, though we had of course incited his wrath occasionally, he had never – _never_ – unleashed such absolute _rage_ upon us before.  To know that we had inflicted such torture upon him as to inspire it was physically painful to me, but worse still was the thought that, if only for a few moments, _I_ had provoked such a grief and fury in him that it had been able to overcome any familial affection – any love – he may yet hold for me.  I had, however briefly, finally succeeded in doing what my brother and I had been afraid of for as long as I could recall.  Unbidden, I felt tears forming behind my eyelids and spilling down my face.

“Fili…”

My little brother’s voice, an anguished whisper, broke through my defences and I had to press one hand to my mouth to keep from crying aloud.  I felt my head pressed against my brother’s chest – any other time, I would have been furious he had _dared_ to grow so much taller than me – his arms wrapped around me so tightly it was if he feared I might fall to pieces if he let go.  My tears were over as quickly as they had come, barely dampening my brother’s tunic, and still he did not release me.  It was oddly comforting, to be held for the second time this evening so protectively by one that I had sworn to protect, even more so to be able to hear his heart beating under my ear – alive, safe, _here_. 

“He was not himself,” I murmured, not moving from my baby brother’s sheltering grasp.  “He was so…” I broke off, unable to put into words the anguish and self-loathing I had seen in our Uncle’s eyes earlier that night.  Afterwards, before Kili had appeared, Thorin had been unable to look at me and, in the heat of the moment, I had thought him still angry but perhaps…

“Overcome,” my brother finished for me, softly.  I nodded slightly, wondering how he could know that, whether he had been there all along.  “When he spoke to me, when he…when he held us, he was shaking.  I’ve never seen him like that.”

I was faintly surprised, though I wasn’t sure why.  I had thought Kili to be exaggerating when he claimed to have been ‘ _worried all evening’_ about the state of things between Thorin and I, but perhaps he really had been.  I felt a stab of guilt at having made him wait so long to discuss it.  He had hidden his own distress well, my little brother; I doubted the same could have been said for me though I had tried.

“He spoke of Frerin,” I admitted slowly, still unwilling to tell my brother all that Thorin had said.  My brother did not need such dark thoughts in his mind, he was frightened enough already – though he would not admit it to anyone but me.  I highly doubted he would even be willing to voice his fears to our Uncle, particularly not now though I thought it a tad silly.  My Uncle had made it perfectly clear that he did not expect us to be the fearless, hardened warriors some of our companions were so why Kili continued to feel he had to hide it was quite beyond me.  Thorin was, and according to him, ever would be, our Uncle.  Adulthood had no place between us; he had made us swear it only a few nights ago.  I shook my head, trying to clear it of such tender memories of our Uncle, they were painful now.  I cleared my throat, thinking of Thorin’s pained shouting from earlier in the evening.  Raising my head, I sought my brother’s eyes, troubled as they were, “I cannot think what I would do without you.”

“Are you angry at him?” Kili asked me hesitantly, dropping his gaze.  I blinked at the non sequitur, vaguely amused at his avoiding my previous statement.

“Yes,” I admitted, once I had had time to consider.  “No.  A little, I…I understand why he was so furious.”

“You _understand_?”

I shrugged.

“I think I am,” he said suddenly, flicking his gaze to me and away again.  “Angry, I mean.”

“Good,” I said dryly, “If he had hit you, I’d have turned that great mane of his into a winter hood and taken it home for Mother.”

He snorted, grinning though I could tell he was trying not to.  As hurt and confused as I was, it felt comfortingly normal to be whispering half-serious promises of retribution on our Uncle.  To my disappointment, my brother’s face turned fretful again as he reached out to where I could feel the bruise forming across one side of my face.  I winced, but tried not to pull away.

“Anyway, I hit you,” I reminded him, trying to steer away from the topic now that it was somewhat out in the open.  I winced anew as I thought of the bruises my brother would have come morning as a result of my impromptu training session with him.

“And I kicked you,” he argued, as though that settled the matter.  “Besides, that was different.”

“Why?”

“Because I fought back.”  I was perversely tempted to point out that he had not expected me to attack him any more than I had expected Thorin to but before I could do so, Kili spoke again.  “Fili, please don’t harbour any regrets.  You were trying to help.”

I scoffed at that.  I hadn’t acted so much from a desire to ‘help’ my brother as to prove a point to myself and Thorin but since the point hadn’t been proven it seemed cruel to bring it up again – especially now, when my brother’s eyelids were beginning to droop ever so slightly. 

“No regrets,” I agreed eventually, wondering if Kili would expect me to move now that our discussion was finished.  I would have spoken again but when I chanced a look at him again, Kili’s eyes had drifted shut – troubled as he was, my poor brother was clearly exhausted.  I laid my head down again, listening to the familiar snuffly noises that predicted his snores, his heartbeat thrumming in my ear and allowing myself to be lulled by it.  Reaching up, I again clenched his shirt in my hand, jumping minutely when one of his came to rest over it. 

As sleep overcame me, my thoughts turned dark once more.  I awoke in the chilled dawn, my heart thudding against my chest and Kili’s shirt twisted in my grasp.  Sleep did not seem to come easily after that, if indeed it came at all.  I lay listening to my younger brother’s snores, loud and unnecessarily bold like the rest of him, but so wonderfully, blessedly _alive_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was Fili, in case you were wondering.
> 
> By the way, has anybody else noticed how I seem to be absolutely obsessed with how much sleep these guys get? Maybe I should stop writing so late at night...


	3. Fili II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I suddenly found myself inexplicably angry with my brother – had I not tried to shield him from this dispute? Was it not I who had been wronged? Was it not enough that I should be so at odds with Thorin without Kili’s actively seeking his wrath by insulting one of our Uncle’s oldest and most trusted friends?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something of a filler chapter I'm afraid. Still, hopefully people won't mind too much and I'll get the next bit up ASAP.

* * *

“That was some brawl you boys must have had last night.”

Beside me, I felt my brother tense as we both peered up at Oin’s silhouette against the morning sunlight.  I congratulated myself on only pulling away slightly as he reached out one paw to inspect my face, turning it this way and that.  I did not speak but tried to convey with looks alone how appallingly impolite I found this interruption to our breakfast.  My brother, as always, was not so politic.

“Let him be,” he ordered through a mouthful of bread, half-heartedly pushing at our resident healer’s arm.  I noticed he made no effort to speak loud enough to be heard without Oin’s hearing trumpet. 

I elbowed Kili, attempting to smile at our healer, though the hand still grasping my chin made it harder in more ways than one.  I gasped, momentarily stunned as he half-patted, half-slapped my injured face.  This time, I joined my brother in his exclamations, though I do not think Oin heard us.

“Oi!” I cried, hand flying to my cheek.  I scowled at him indignantly, though in truth it had probably felt a lot harder than it had been.

“You’ll live,” Oin declared loudly (as always), straightening and wandering away from us without so much as a ‘good morning’.

“Was there ever any doubt?” my brother muttered, scowling after him.  “What kind of healer _is_ he?”

I shook my head, silently agreeing with the sentiment, though I would never be so discourteous as to say it aloud.  I had heard great things of our venerable Oin but if that was how he treated his patients then I couldn’t say I was overly impressed, I thought I could recall his bedside manner being rather better when we were younger.

“You all right?”  Kili asked me suddenly, turning to me. 

I sighed.  We had done so well up until now, when I had awoken from my dozing earlier it was as if there were nothing wrong – Kili's spirits had in fact seemed highest of them all despite the rainclouds on the horizon.  “Yes,” I reassured him, nudging his shoulder with my own, “You heard what Oin said, _I’ll live_ , so there’s a weight off our minds, eh?”

He did not smile, instead opting for: “Ham-fisted old fool,” muttered darkly in Oin’s direction.

“Kili!” I hissed in surprise, glancing around to be certain no one had heard him.  “Show a little respect, can’t you?!”

He did, to his credit, have the good sense to at least _look_ chagrined though I suspect from years of experience that it was not entirely genuine.  His sudden protectiveness both touched and worried me.  Thorin had been conspicuous in his absence this morning but if Kili’s ill will extended to such harmless members of our group then I shuddered to think how he might present himself to our leader.  I returned to my food but, though I had not eaten much last night, I did not really have an appetite now either.  From the corner of my eye, I saw Kili begin to attack his own meal with his usual fervour – how my little brother consumed so much and stayed as slender as he did was quite beyond me – until another shadow fell across us both.

Again, a hand descended from above us to clutch at my beard.  Before I could help myself, I released a frustrated sigh – why, oh _why_ , did our companions seem to think it suddenly appropriate to be manhandling me so?  One would think that they had never seen such a contusion before!  Raising eyes to the newcomer, I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach as I found myself staring dumbly up at Dwalin.

“Dwalin,” I greeted eventually, when it seemed he would never speak.  He released my face, mercifully not patting it as Oin had done, and pushed us apart until he sat between us.  I was vaguely aware of Kili leaning back and casting me a look as if to say ‘ _What in Durin’s name is happening here_?’. 

“That is quite some bruise,” Dwalin began congenially, and I had the sneaking suspicion I was about to be reprimanded for allowing my brother such a shot.  In our many years of training, Dwalin had ever been as hard a taskmaster as our Uncle, often harder.  “You must have been taken quite unawares, Fili.”

“Kili won the fight – luck was with him last night.”

“Luck has no place in battle,” Dwalin admonished immediately, as he had so many times before.  “Besides, if, and I do say ‘ _if’_ Master Kili here is responsible for this then you should both be ashamed.”

Though I could not see him around Dwalin’s broad figure, I expected my brother’s face mirrored my confusion.

“However hard the strike,” Dwalin explained, turning to Kili, “your aim was inexcusable – hurried and undisciplined – you let your emotions run away with you.”  I could just imagine the stern expression gracing Dwalin’s hardened features and wondered whether he knew just how well he had interpreted the strike (though admittedly not the assailant).

“Yes, Mister Dwalin.”

“And you,” our companion said, suddenly turning to me again, “Kin is all well and good, but do not let allow it to overcome your instincts.  You’ll do him more harm than good that way.”

He fixed me with such an intense glare that I’m certain I must have shied away from it.  As I nodded (with such a glare trained on me, I could do little else) he slid his gaze away from me to where Thorin had appeared on the other side of our camp, pausing as he felt our eyes upon him.  I paused, narrowing my eyes – I now strongly suspected that our old weapons master knew more than he was letting on.

“Dwalin – ”

“Up, up! You have many miles to travel before nightfall!” came Gandalf’s commanding voice from across the way.  For once, Thorin made no quarrel, not even to remind the wizard of who was in charge of our company.  Dwalin gazed at me a moment longer before rising, clapping me (none too gently) on the shoulder.  Kili and I rose too, Kili gesturing questioningly at the remains of my breakfast.  I shook my head and he hurriedly stuffed it into his own pack for later. 

“What has he told you?” I asked Dwalin quietly, under guise of helping him load his pony.

“Enough,” he informed me firmly; he would not betray my uncle’s confidence any further, loyal soul that he was, “But if there are quarrels, end them now whilst the land is still friend to us – there’s no knowing what lurks in these places nowadays.”

I was almost hurt at his words – it was not so much a quarrel as Thorin momentarily losing his mind – but then Dwalin had and it seemed ever would be, our uncle’s most loyal friend.  Of course he should want what was best for him, and for the company.  I prided myself in being able to see the logic in it, however cruel it seemed to me.  Nodding as he saw that I had understood him, Dwalin mounted and turned away from me.  Evidently the lesson was over and I was dismissed.

 “Well, what did he have to say?” Kili asked immediately as I re-joined him, hauling myself up onto my own mount.  I took a moment to be both surprised and touched that he had thought to saddle and load her for me, even if his prying did annoy me a little.

“Oh, you know,” I shrugged, “Next time we fight, I’m to be sure I knock you arse over elbow before you get to do this,” I gestured at my face, “again.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“No, he didn’t,” I agreed.  “But if he had intended for you to hear, little brother, then he would have told you so.”

Kili scowled darkly.  If there is one thing my brother detests it is being told ‘ _no’,_ but as children the most sure-fire way for me to infuriate him was to say just five words: ‘ _I am not telling you’_.  In truth, I did feel slightly guilty – particularly after I had told him all last night – but until I had had time to think on Dwalin’s words, I did not intend to kindle my brother’s ire by telling him that I had as good as been told to _forget_ all about my incident with Thorin.  Beside me, Kili huffed as loudly as he could it seemed without attracting the attention of our companions.  When I still did not give in, he shot me a final dirty look and urged his steed on further up our column.  Concerned, I made to follow – for the sake of them both, as well as the company, I could not allow Kili within Thorin’s reach whilst he was still so furious – but Kili rode on ahead until he came level with Ori and his brothers and seemed content to travel with them a while. 

I rode on my own for a while then, studiously ignoring the occasions when Kili fired me his most petulant looks as if to say ‘ _See what I am doing, brother?  I do not care to be taken into your confidence; you may keep your secrets’._ I admit my interpretations of those looks may have been somewhat coloured by my own guilt.  Unfortunately for my brother, I have spent nigh on eighty years ignoring those looks; I am almost as immune to them now as our Uncle if not more so.  I winced involuntarily.  Alone as I was with my thoughts and, as much as I knew I needed to, I was not yet ready to think too much on Thorin.   Unlike my brother, Thorin had barely spared me two glances all day clearly too caught up in whatever serious matter he was attending to at the front of our column with Dwalin.  Suddenly, as if sensing my eyes upon him, he turned and looked straight at me.  I felt as though someone had punched me in the gut. 

“My cousin has a great love of lore,” declared a voice to my left.  Distracted, I turned to find Gloin riding alongside me.  When I looked back, Thorin was once more sitting straight in his saddle, his back to us.

“Does he?” I sighed, feigning interest.  My companions were all decent – mostly reputable – dwarves, many of whom I had known on and off throughout childhood and, though I wanted nothing more than for them to recognise me as a friend, I currently wished they would all leave me _alone_.  I appreciated their time of course but if it was good company they were seeking, I couldn’t help but feel that they would all be better off seeking it elsewhere today.

“Mm, nary a day goes by when Balin does not have _some_ tale to tell us all.”

Despite myself I smiled; I had many fond memories of whiling away the cold nights in Ered Luin listening to Balin tell tales of the hardships suffered by our ancestors and the incredible feats of bravery by our warriors – several of whom travelled with us now.  “So I recall.”

“He means no harm by it.”

“Of course not,” I assured him, slightly stunned.  What harm had Balin done me that Gloin felt he should apologise? 

“You might try telling that brother of yours that,” Gloin sighed, nodding towards Kili. 

“Kili?  Why?”  I felt the familiar creeping feeling that I was about to informed of some misbehaviour of Kili’s though I couldn’t think when he’d have had the time for he had not left my sight all day.

Gloin looked askance at me, seemingly wondering if I were simply playing ignorant.  “He was not himself this morning, I am sure he meant nothing by it,” he told me, one hand raised in a conciliatory fashion.

I huffed impatiently, unable to help myself.

“He seemed to feel that Balin’s tale last night had caused upset between yourselves and our immutable leader,” he continued watching me closely.

I passed a hand across my forehead – would that my brother wouldlearn some manner of self-control – and looked at Gloin from underneath it.  “He said this to you?”

He nodded and informed me: “I told him to curb his tongue or else lose it.”

“And Balin?”

“No,” he said eyeing me sternly, “Just me.”

I grit my teeth.    “Have you spoken to anyone else of it?”

“No, and I shall not, you may have my word on that if – _if_ – you take him to task,” he gazed at me a moment, something softening in his firm countenance.  “I see no need to inform Thorin or either of my cousins of it.”

I felt something unclench within me.  If Kili’s words had been so severe as to warrant Gloin – a dwarf who spoke his mind more freely than anyone I knew – reporting it to me, then I shuddered to think of the consequences if his words reached Thorin, or indeed Dwalin.  I suddenly found myself inexplicably angry with my brother – had I not tried to shield him from this dispute?  Was it not _I_ who had been wronged?  Was it not _enough_ that I should be so at odds with Thorin without Kili’s actively seeking his wrath by publicly insulting one of our Uncle’s oldest and most trusted friends?  I glowered darkly at my brother, watching him talk animatedly with Ori who in turn watched my brother with rapt attention.  ‘ _Take him to task’_ Gloin had said, I vow my fingers itched at the thought of it.  Far better me than Thorin.

“Easy, laddie,” Gloin said gently, unfurling my fingers from where I clenched the reins in my grasp.  “He had clearly had little sleep – a reprimand is all I ask.”

I looked at him, surprised.  I had thought to do considerably more than reprimand my brother.  Balin’s tale may, in hindsight, have been inconsiderate but he had not intended any wrong.  It was _our_ behaviour that had provoked Thorin, not his.  Given the circumstances, _Kili_ of all people had no right to condemn him.  It struck me that Gloin, considering his cousin’s good name was being slandered, was being exceptionally kind-hearted about all this.

“How is your son?”  I asked suddenly, deciding a change of topic was in order lest Gloin become too curious about what might have sparked my brother’s outburst.  In all the excitement of the first few days and the turmoil of the last one, I had quite forgotten to inquire after my distant cousin’s family.  It had probably been on Kili’s mind far more than mine, since they was closer in age than Gimli and I were.  The truth was that however much he may have been in our thoughts, any news we got of him came from Thorin or Dwalin when they made their visits to the outer reaches of Ered Luin.

The corners of Gloin’s eyes crinkled fondly, and I thought he seemed grateful to have been asked.  No other in our company had had to drag themselves from children or wives; even Thorin whom I suppose _might_ have felt similarly had eventually brought both of us along with him. 

“He is well, he grows ever broader,” he informed me proudly, and I was glad to have asked him. “And he has a _fine_ beard now.”

“Kili will be disappointed to hear that.” 

“Of course, he was sorely frustrated he could not join us,” Gloin continued regretfully.

“Thorin barely allowed Kili to come, he would never have accepted Gimli,” I told him quickly.  He nodded and I somehow found myself blurting, “I think he might have been right.”

I could hardly bear to look at him, certain of the disapproval I would see in his eyes.  To my surprise, I saw him glance up our column at both my brother and Thorin, before reaching across to place one hand on my arm, squeezing firmly.  When I did meet his eyes, he was looking at me with such compassion that I could hardly believe I had forgotten he was a father. 

He did not tell me I was right to be worried, though I suspected he would dearly have liked to, but he did not tell me I was wrong either.  It was unsettling but also somehow comforting to know that there those in our party who, though they probably still recalled Kili and me in swaddling, did not feel inclined to offer me false platitudes, only the reassurance that I was not the only one who harboured these fears.

We rode on in companionable silence then and, though I could tell he still currently thought of Gimli, Kili and I as a set, I began to think we might one day be something more like friends.

I gazed unhappily up at the darkening skies above us. “That dratted rain is starting again.”


	4. Kili II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was pressing my advantage as his little, baby, brother, I knew that. I had never felt so guilty for doing so as I did then but this was for his own good as well as Thorin's and my own and he simply had to see! He had to understand that he needed to make the first move because Thorin would not. I was well aware that when Thorin and I quarrelled like this – though he had never struck one of us like this – either my brother or Mother would flit between us playing advocate to both of us until we both agreed to let it go. Or occasionally, until I was just about ready to get down on my knees and beg my Uncle's forgiveness for whatever anger-fuelled insult I had so thoughtlessly thrown at him. I had tried to be their peacemaker – clearly I was no use at that either – but one of them needed to break and it was clearly not going to be Thorin."

It was not fair. My brother was being completely and utterly unfair about all this. I appreciated his not-quite-confiding in me last night though in truth some innermost part of me wished that I had remained ignorant. It was shameful and utterly unjust that I should wish for my brother to cope with this alone but there it was. I hoped he had been able to take comfort from me last night though I am not so well practised in the calming of others as he is. All the same, for him to have laid that upset on me last night but refuse to discuss it this morning – or even to confide in me Dwalin's words  _hurt_. The fact was, Dwalin  _must_ have known I had not been the one to hurt Fili last night – quite apart from anything else, Dwalin was our weapons master for years and knows our abilities better than almost anyone; he knows I am not capable of laying such a blow upon my brother even during a match. He had practically said as much - 'if  _Master Kili here is responsible_ …' – Dwalin knew, he  _knew_  what Thorin had done and what's more he knew that  _I_ knew and he still did not think me worth involving in his quiet little chat with my brother. I had thought nothing of it, certain that Fili would tell me all when he returned but no! Even Fili refused to speak of it any further.

And it  _hurt_. I was not some dwarfling unable to hold my tongue; I could and  _should_ be trusted with it. If Fili would but tell me everything then I would keep it secret – if he so wished – I would speak of it to nobody but him if that was what he asked of me. I wondered if he thought to spare me some anguish by refusing me the details of their encounter but surely, _surely_  my brother realised that whatever happened could be no worse than what my mind was conjuring up to fill the gaps? This was torture! I  _felt_  like a dwarfling listening in darkened rooms to my elders raised voices and conjuring up all manner of fearful reasons for them – what terrors could be so bad that they had to wait until Fili and I were in bed before speaking of them?

The rational part of me said that if I was so concerned, I should simply ask my Uncle. It had usually worked in the past – many was the time I had simply trailed between my Uncle and Mother until they had each given me enough to piece together entire incidents without their knowing – I saw no reason why it should not work between my Uncle and brother. Except I did not  _want_ to ask Thorin. I did not want to be near him, the very thought of bringing the two of them together while  _this_  stood unresolved made me feel faintly sick and yet, how could it ever be mended if they would not speak?

Fili had said he understood, that he was not angry any more but  _I_  was. I was angry that neither of them had thought to tell me of it the moment I came upon them the night before, angry at my brother for still trying to shoulder it all by himself, angry at Thorin for doing this – now and out here of all times! – angry that Balin, the old fool, had thought it appropriate to tell such a story even if he had been trying to fix things but mostly, I was angry at  _myself_  for well, just about everything. I should not have asked Fili to speak with Thorin alone – we ought to have faced him together – I should have asked them what was wrong when I first realised anything  _was_  and I should never have made that stupid,  _thoughtless_  joke. And I should not have pressed Fili so hard to speak of it if I did not intend to  _do_  anything about it now. Badly done indeed.

I was well aware that our companions – probably even my brother – thought I was sulking. Ori had ridden with me quite happily for a while and we had passed the time very pleasantly – we did not know each other well, though we had met before as children, but kin is kin and he seemed a friendly enough fellow when I was able to draw him away from his own brothers' watchful eyes. Still, eventually even he had tired of my surly self and dropped back to ride with his brothers again. I did not intend to inflict my company upon Bofur, his brother and cousin nor upon Gandalf and Bilbo and it seemed everyone else had formed their own parties, none of which I would be welcome in given my current mood.

Only Fili and Thorin rode alone, at opposite ends of our column and both looking for all the world as if nothing was wrong, both straight in their saddles, unbowed by the torrential rain that had started again not long my decision, I urged my pony on further up the line until I rode just level with Thorin. I told myself I had imagined my slightly panicked brother shouting my name. As I drew up, Thorin gave me a slightly surprised look, quickly masked into indifference as he looked ahead once more.

"If this rain goes on much longer," he began conversationally, "we shall have to stop or else risk the ponies losing their footing in this mud."

I grunted, glancing at the quagmire beneath us; even to my eyes, it was beginning to look rather unsafe. We rode in silence. I had so much I wanted to say – well, shout really – so many questions that I  _needed_  answering that I couldn't think where to begin. In the end, I began with something rather nonsensical.

"Fili has a bruise."

For a second, I imagined there was something slightly amused in Thorin's eyes. "Several, I imagine," he informed me, though the amusement was gone.

"On his face," I elaborated, annoyed at his refusal to be drawn in.

"Dwalin informs me he must have been struck very hard," announced Balin, moving up on Thorin's other side before Thorin had the chance to respond.

Despite Gloin's earlier warning, if Balin had been a less respected, less well-loved member of our group and, had Thorin not been between us, I believe I would have thrown myself at him. As it was, I cursed him under my breath, forcing myself to ignore the look of wide-eyed fury my Uncle fired me. I did however steer my pony slightly further away.

"You must be very proud your youngest, Thorin, my friend," Balin continued, clearly oblivious to the tension he had somehow simultaneously caused and interrupted.

Thorin hesitated, glancing at me. "Of course," he replied, his voice sounding strangely tight. A small, vicious part of me wondered whether he was angry at having the credit for such an excellent blow stolen from him. Although angry, I knew in my heart that it was not true, that my Uncle would never rejoice in one of us being hurt regardless of how much he felt we deserved it. All the same, I could not help myself biting out a retort.

"Really, Balin? He told  _me_ that it was an ill-judged,  _clumsy_  strike of which I should be  _ashamed_ ," I told him, studiously avoiding Thorin's gaze. Glancing at him briefly, I added, "I am inclined to agree."

From the corner of my eye, I saw movement and made to steer away again but before I could, I felt my upper arm seized in a vicelike grip and pulled towards them. I could not help but emit a tiny gasp of surprise but I forced myself to remain completely still and not look at him.

"That is enough, Sir," Thorin growled into my ear, and I began to consider that perhaps I ought to have held my tongue after all, "You have made your point."

I gave a small, nigh on imperceptible nod and he released me, turning back to Balin and beginning to engage him in some other conversation. I swallowed, turning in my seat to seek out my brother's eyes. I found him, much closer than he had been when last I had looked and watching me, his brows creased in concern. Glancing around, I saw that he was not the only one of our company to have borne witness; I felt the heat rising in my face despite my cold and sodden clothing. I turned away, letting my eyes sink shut for a moment.

I considered dropping back to ride with my brother but quite suddenly, as if told to do so, Balin dropped back himself and I was left alone with Thorin once more.

"Fili has told you," he stated without preamble, I could see his grip on his steed's reins was white. "Kili…"

I had begun to draw away, not far just…out of reach, but something in his voice gave me pause. "Some," I admitted eventually.

He nodded slowly; I could see something twitching in his jawline. "I had hoped he might spare you it."

I made an undignified scoffing sound – he had hoped Fili would spare me it? I daresay Fili would have hoped  _he_ might have been spared it too. I told Thorin so.

"I do not have to justify myself to  _you_ , Kili," he said eventually, refusing to look at me.

"Because you are my  _King_ ," I muttered darkly, only half intending to be heard.

"No, because I am your uncle!"

We stared at each other for a moment, both breathing heavily. I was vaguely aware that we must be making something of a spectacle of ourselves for our companions but Thorin did not seem to mind. Sighing, Thorin turned away from me, when he spoke next it was in his familiar even tones.

"You are angry, I understand that. But Kili, hear me, this is none of your concern."

None of my – ? "Fili is my brother! And you are my uncle!" I declared hotly, scarcely able to comprehend what I had just been told. "This  _is_ my concern, if there is trouble between you then it is  _my_  concern!"

" _Kili_ ," Thorin dragged out my name, as though the very act of speaking with me was tiring for him. "You do not understand. You cannot  _possibly_ comprehend – "

"It was a  _joke!_ " I said, for what seemed like the hundredth time, "It was inconsiderate, Thorin –  _Uncle_  – and it was cruel but this was resolved.  _You_  said this was resolved."

"I know," he reached out one hand and squeezed my arm, a gesture almost as familiar to me as the man himself.

I looked away. I knew I had sounded childish, that I was near begging him to heal this rift but the way they were both treating me – I  _felt_ childish, like I was being patted on the head and told I had nothing useful to contribute to their 'adult' conversation. If Thorin had been harsh with me or violent even, I should have found this easier, easier to maintain my anger and to believe him a tyrant who had purposefully tried to keep it all from me to make it harder on my brother. But he was not harsh, nor cruel; he was, as ever, my Uncle, unyielding and proud like a true King of old but beneath it  _good_  and tender like…well, our Uncle.

"Won't you speak to him?" I asked eventually, knowing better than to ask Thorin to  _apologise_ , "He is not  _angry_."

"I would not force my company on him," he said, shaking his head. I did not like to point out that he had done so every night but the last since we left Hobbiton. "And I will not  _beg_."

I wanted to scream in frustration – did he not see how much it would mean to Fili – to both of us – if he were to make the first move? That Fili and I were, as always, awaiting his direction?

"I had thought Dwalin might have…." He continued, trailing off uncertainly.

He had known then. Dwalin, our Uncle's ever-loyal friend, had indeed been sent to Fili this morning to try to make the peace between them.

"I will speak with him," I offered grudgingly, knowing but unwilling to let on that I did not think it would take much at all to inspire Fili to forgive his actions. Though I did wonder what Thorin could have said or done to have inspired such fear in him as I had seen and been subjected to last night.

"Thank you," he said, very quietly. "I shall give you both first watch, you can discuss it then."

"We always take the first watch," I pointed out.

"Well, the two of you need your sleep and 'tis hard enough to rouse  _you_ from your bed as it is."

I chose not to honour his jibe with a response.

"Kili, please," he said, suddenly sombre again, "this…discord is between your brother and I, do not let it come between  _us._ Trust that I will see it mended eventually."

"You hit him  _very_ hard, Uncle," I informed him uncertainly, "You  _frightened_  him."

"I frightened myself," he admitted, so quietly I was certain he had not intended for me to hear.

"I will speak with Fili," I told him with an air of finality. Even through my concern, I was able to appreciate the novelty of holding such  _power_ over him – truth be told, I was touched beyond words that he should be so concerned, I had half expected him to shrug any reprimand off. In fact, I had half expected him to strike out at me as well, I'm quite certain Fili had expected that as well.

"Go, ride with your brother," he ordered suddenly, "He will welcome your company, I am sure."

I glanced behind us, Fili was indeed riding alone once more and watching us anxiously. I hesitated, unsure whether to offer Thorin some sort of reassurance before shrugging it off – what earthly good could  _my_ assurances do him? – and turning back down the line to re-join my brother.

* * *

When the time came to make camp, Fili and I had more than made our peace with each other again and though he had not told me what Dwalin had said earlier, I had indeed been able to surmise it from what Thorin had said. I imagined it had been something along the lines of ' _make peace with Thorin, or else_ ,' with hopefully a modicum more diplomacy. Fili had chosen to begin our conversation with a lecture upon the proper ways to discuss a person's kin with them, mainly, why the way I had described Balin and what I thought of him this morning had been completely inappropriate for Gloin's hearing. Given Gloin's reaction, I was inclined to agree with Fili.

Thorin had dismissed us both with a barking order to take care of the ponies and, though I realised he wanted us to spend this time discussing their fall out, I looked forward to spending a couple of hours in the company of my brother away from the noise and hubbub of the rest of the company. We whiled away the first half hour or so placing bets as to when Gandalf would return (Fili had suggested the following morning but I personally felt he would not stay gone even that long) or even as to where he gone. We smoked for a time, Fili laughing as I attempted the perfect circles that he and Thorin – and even Bilbo – seemed so fond of making. I had paused briefly then, thinking how strange it had been to go for so long – for a day and night  _was_  long – without hearing my older brother's laughter. When he asked why I had stopped, I told him so. He blushed fiercely, as I knew he would, but did not comment.

We briefly toyed with the idea of sparring practice – a slightly more disciplined session than the previous one – but eventually Fili put paid to that idea by pointing out that it would not do for us to return to camp looking like muddied children two nights in a row. Beside me, I was quickly noticing my brother  _drooping_  as if the act of holding his body upright was simply too much effort. He had not slept well I knew, for every time I had awoken, he had also been awake and ready to  _pet_  and murmur me back into sleep. I had been glad when I had awoken for the final time to find him fast asleep, still draped across me like a fur.

"Fili," he 'mmed' a response, not opening his eyes, "go back and sleep, brother, the watch is almost over."

"'S'not," he argued sleepily, yawning as he did so.

"Well, I can manage on my own."

"No," he told me, seemingly suddenly quite awake, "I'm not leaving you out here."

"I'm touched," I commented, though in reality I was somewhat annoyed that he did not trust me to look after a few ponies by myself, "why not sleep here then?"

He looked tempted, even beginning to lay his cloak out over the log upon which we were sat but he seemed to remember himself just in time. "No, Kili, I'll wait with you until the watch is over."

"If you insist…"

"Come here," he said suddenly, shaking his head as if to clear the sleep from it, "Sit in front of me."

"Fili…." I did not whine, not quite anyway.

"You told Uncle that we would remake them this morning, but you've been wandering around all day looking as if you've been dragged through a hedge backwards."

I huffed and made a bit more show of not wanting him to do it but I did eventually take up my place in front of him, straddling the log and turning my back to him. It wasn't that I didn't want to proudly wear that braid, but rather that I hate –  _hate –_ the process of making it. I much prefer someone else to do it, though I quite enjoy doing Fili's, but Fili never seemed to have quite mastered the skill and my hair tangled at the best of times; this riding through torrential rains and high winds had done nothing for it. I sat through his attempting to –  _tease_  seems like too gentle a word – rip the tangles from my hair and tried not to yelp too loudly as he did so. I found myself longing for him and Thorin to make up if only so that I could ask Thorin to do it instead. Our Uncle has an uncanny knack for working even the worst knots from hair and a great skill at braiding that is perhaps rivalled only by our Mother, and possibly, now I came to think of it, whoever made Bofur's braids. Mother had always said it was due to his endlessly practicing that skill on our Uncle Frerin's hair as they were growing up in the Wilds and Dunland where the wind filled the plains like water through a pipe. I was glad I only wore one braid in my hair – for now anyway – for it meant Fili would be done quickly.

"Well…it's a little better," Fili announced from over my shoulder, taking the leather strip and silver clasp from my hand and binding the end of the braid. "You ought to grow it thicker; it would stay in place if you did."

I scowled, though he could not see it. I could not control the way my hair grew any more than he could, I very much doubted he had awoken one morning and  _decided_  to grow his hair so thick. I told him so. Turning me to him, he cast me one of his familiar fond smiles.

"It will come with time, Brother, I am certain," he assured me, tugging a few strands loose to hang around my eyes as I usually did, "it will most likely fill out with your beard."

I glowered at him, pretending to be more offended by his teasing than I truly was. In truth, it felt comfortingly familiar to be teasing and joking with one another as normal instead of fighting and worrying after each other.

"You are going to speak with Thorin, aren't you?" Fili dropped his hands and gaze to his lap, his whole body tensing. I could have kicked myself. Taking one hand in mine, I hastened to add, "I don't mean right now – not even tonight if you don't want to – but…Fili he's sorry, he feels  _very_ badly about it and – "

"Did he say so?"

I hesitated, glancing away briefly.

"No," Fili snorted, "Of course not." He contemplated me for a moment before continuing, and I tried to ignore the hurt in his voice. "I thought you were angry at him; you approached him earlier and I thought I would have to stop a  _real_  fight."

"So did I," I admitted softly, "But Fili how long is this going to drag on?" He made a sound of choking disbelief but I pressed on before he could interrupt, well aware that what I was saying was in all probability about to make me as separate to him as our uncle. "You  _know_  Uncle will not apologise, so why inflict this anguish on us all when  _you_ can stop it whenever you like?"

"ME?"

Not for the first time, I was suddenly grateful to be the younger brother, if I were not my next tactic may not work as well as it had done in the past.

"Fili…please? This is unbearable."

I was pressing my advantage as his little,  _baby_ , brother, I knew that. I had never felt so guilty for doing so as I did then but this was for his own good as well as Thorin's and my own and he simply had to see! He had to understand that  _he_  needed to make the first move because Thorin would not. I was well aware that when Thorin and I quarrelled like this – though he had  _never_ struck one of us like this – either my brother or Mother would flit between us playing advocate to both of us until we both agreed to let it go. Or occasionally, until I was just about ready to get down on my knees and  _beg_ my Uncle's forgiveness for whatever anger-fuelled insult I had so thoughtlessly thrown at him. I had  _tried_ to be their peacemaker – clearly I was no use at that either – but  _one_ of them needed to break and it was clearly not going to be Thorin.

"You said you were not angry anymore," I reminded him.

"I'm not!"

I allowed my utter scepticism about that to show openly upon my face.

"I'm trying not to be," he amended, sighing. "Do not bother yourself with this anymore, Kili. I meant what I said last night; I  _should not_  have tried to involve you."

"I wanted to know!" I protested.

He reached over, joining our hands once more; I felt a flicker of hope in me. "This is nothing to do with you, do you hear? Thorin and I…we will come to terms, but  _you_ must stop your worrying now." He smiled slightly, "You are becoming worse than Mother."

I knew he was telling me what I wanted to hear, reassuring me as he had before but still I was comforted. My brother would not lie to me, no matter how hurtful it would have been, Fili would not tell me such things if he did not believe them himself. He was watching me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him that I understood. I had played my part but now I had to leave it to them to reconcile, it was not my place to force either one of them into it. Once more, I was being patted on the head and (literally) told not to worry.

"Kili, when have we ever not made up in the past? Do not allow yourself to be distracted by this any longer, please."

Reluctantly, I nodded, allowing him to wrap one arm about my shoulders and squeeze me to his side.

"Trust me."

I stared moodily at a few of our grazing ponies, only slightly mollified by my brother's assurances. I appreciated Fili's relieving me of my part in their quarrel but I would not rest easy until I knew that all was well between them again.

A sudden thought struck me and I felt the bottom drop out from my stomach. I stood suddenly, gazing wildly around us.

"There aren't enough ponies."

Beside me, Fili shot to his feet. "What? There must be."

"There aren't! There's some missing, I tell you," I turned to him, watching him count them in his head before turning wide eyes on me. I made a noise, which in a lesser dwarf, may have been a whimper. "Thorin will have our hides if we don't find them."

"They  _have_ to be here…" he said, standing upon the log on which we had been sat. I joined him, looking around hopefully but of course, we could see no more from our 'vantage point' than we had seen from the ground.

"What are we going to do?" We both jumped down from the log, staring wide-eyed at each other. "They can't have just wandered off – we tied them up!"

"What's the matter?" Neither of us moved as we heard Bilbo approach.

"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies," I told him quickly.

"Only…we've encountered a slight problem." Fili explained, looking at him uneasily.

"We had sixteen…"

"Now there's fourteen."

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking this is the second to last chapter (I hadn't actually intended to drag it out as long as I have already!). And yes, that last bit of dialogue is straight from the movie, I'm not claiming it as mine.
> 
> Also, I apologise to anyone who was expecting a big showdown between Kili & Thorin but I just couldn't see it and I couldn't see any way back from it if it did happen.


	5. Fili III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I turned my attention back to the light. Drawing a couple of my knives in case we were caught, I edged forwards, Kíli following just behind. From the corner of my eye, I saw him follow suit and draw his sword. Moving forwards slowly, I crouched down in the undergrowth, peering into the firelight to see what had become of Bilbo. Had he found the ponies? Was he in trouble? And just who – or what – had built a fire out here? I pulled aside a branch to get a better look and suddenly I saw – "
> 
> Final chapter of this story, in which everything is (finally) resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does require you to think slightly differently to the film and the book - it doesn't differ enough to be AU by any means but in case there's any one who is particularly savvy about how long there is between each event in either version, there are a few minor time line changes you need to be aware of so that you don't think I've just forgotten them.
> 
> 1) They are encountering the trolls the night after the orc joke happens and we see the lovely flashback sequence.  
> 2) While I have left it that it is Fili and Kili who send Bilbo off on his own to recover the ponies from the trolls, I have written it slightly more like the book in that they don't realise what they're sending him into (because that doesn't really work with my head canon right now, and I'm willing to overlook that minute of the film).  
> 3) The scene where they meet Radagast doesn't happen until at least the afternoon/early evening so there's a good few hours of hiking involved in the morning.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

"Maybe we ought to tell Thorin."

Beside me, my brother paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. Placing it back down, he turned worried eyes on me.

"He's not going to be happy," he said apprehensively, "Aren't you…I mean, shouldn't we at least try to sort this ourselves? It might be nothing – Bilbo will be back soon."

I raised my eyebrows sceptically, ' _it might be nothing'_  indeed. "Yes, Kíli," I said somewhat mockingly, "I'm sure the ponies simply untied themselves and wandered off. And of course they uprooted a few trees, crushed a few bushes while they were about it."

"'can  _hope_ , can't we?" He asked, shooting me a slightly hurt frown.

"He ought to have been back by now, surely?" I stood, creeping forwards a few feet to see if I could see our burglar returning. He hadn't signalled for our help but then who's to say hobbits even know the difference between brown owls and other owls – I hadn't thought of it at the time. Through the brush, I could still see the flickering light of the fire but we were too far to hear any of the goings on around it, if indeed there were any. All the same, I cursed my earlier cowardice, encouraging Bilbo to go alone when he hadn't even a knife with which to defend himself. He really ought to be back by now. "Surely we ought to be doing something too?" I asked Kíli, jumping slightly as his face appeared barely a foot away from mine. I had not the faintest idea what we  _could_  do, not knowing what we were facing or even whether Bilbo  _was_  in trouble. I turned to my brother, placing my hand on his shoulder and pressing him to sit. "If I go on a bit further – just to get a look – do you swear you'll stay here, and not follow unless I call for you?"

"No," he answered emphatically, an incredulous laugh pulling at his lips.

"Kíli…"

"No," he repeated, brushing my hand away and pushing past me. "If you want a closer look, let's go and get one but I won't sit here and wait for you like some helpless little dwarfling."

I stared at him a moment, at once proud of his bravery and exasperated by his own need to prove himself. "All right, we'll both go," I conceded, slightly disconcerted by the way his eyes lit up as I said it, "But we'll just get a look and see if we can't find Bilbo and then we'll go back and tell the others. Promise?"

He sighed, scowling as if to say I had completely taken the fun out of it but nodded reluctantly.

"Kíli, promise me." I repeated sternly, knowing how easily my brother walked into disasters simply because he could not wait to throw himself into every new situation. If he would give me his word, I would feel a good deal better about this – a dwarf's word was a thing of honour, even my brother in all his impetuousness would not break a promise once made.

"Yes, Fíli," he bit out, clearly frustrated, "I promise."

Satisfied, I turned my attention back to the light. Drawing a couple of my knives in case we were caught, I edged forwards, Kíli following just behind. From the corner of my eye, I saw him follow suit and draw his sword. Moving forwards slowly, I crouched down in the undergrowth, peering into the firelight to see what had become of Bilbo. Had he found the ponies? Was he in trouble? And just who – or  _what_  – had built a fire out here? I pulled aside a branch to get a better look and suddenly I saw –

"Kíli, get back," I ordered quickly, throwing my arm out to stop him moving any further forwards. He froze, following my gaze before turning and looking fearfully at me.

"Where's Bilbo?"

I swallowed nervously, peering through our cover and trying to spot our little burglar in the circle of firelight. Horrified, I spied him just in time to see one of the trolls snatch him up in its great paw and…blow it's nose on him, most ferociously. Beside me, Kíli gave a quiet noise somewhere between a laugh and a retch.

"Hush," I ordered him quietly. I could not think what to do – leave Kíli here and run for help myself? Or send Kíli back alone when there could be more of the foul creatures roaming about? We could hardly just sit here and hope they would come looking for us. "Kíli," I began firmly, "I want you to stay here. Do not move from this place, do you hear?"

He looked at me incredulously, gesturing emphatically towards Bilbo and the trolls. "I know," I said, holding one hand up to stop any further protest, "But I will be back with Thorin and the others– there's nothing we can do just us two."

"But – "

"Kíli!" I poured every ounce of severity and fear and anger that I had in me into that one word. He could not ask me to choose between trusting him to do as I said while I ran for reinforcements or staying here and minding him whilst our poor new friend was murdered and eaten by trolls. My brother is stubborn and brave and childish but even he would not disobey me in this – he could not! He nodded once.

"Well, go on then!" He ordered, even giving me a half shove away back towards our own camp before turning back to the peril unfolding before him.

I did not need to be told twice. Kíli may have agreed to stay where he was but I did not intent to test my brother's restraint – if he felt I was taking too long then he would be up and throwing himself into danger without a second thought. And I would not be there to protect him. I wished I were faster.

"THORIN!" I began shouting the moment I knew I was within earshot, hoping that my companions would hear my cries and be ready for a fight ere I reached them. My forethought paid off; by the time I broke into our camp (very nearly sending Ori crashing into the fire) my companions were armed and on their feet ready to fend off whatever foul enemy I came to warn them of.

"Fíli!"

I looked up from where I had been bent double – we dwarves are surprisingly fast but even we 'youngsters' tire quickly – to see Dwalin standing over me, axe in hand anxious to know what was wrong.

"Trolls," I managed to gasp out, "Trolls have Bilbo…ponies…'s a fire."

I had not made much sense I knew but our entire company was off like dogs on a scent, crashing through the undergrowth in the direction I had come, Dwalin grabbing a hold of my jacket and dragging me along beside him. Though my limbs ached and my chest burned so that I thought I might never breathe normally again, the knowledge that I had abandoned my little brother so close to danger spurred me on with them. As I ran, images of the terrible things three huge mountain trolls could do to my gangly, foolishly courageous little brother filled my head and I thought I might tear up just from the thought of it. Thorin may have had his brother snatched from him but at least he had been there at all – I had abandoned my own little brother to the mercy of three enormous trolls. What had I been thinking?! Kíli would not stay put – Kíli  _never_  stayed where he was told not even when he was threatened into doing so by Thorin or our Mother – I was going to arrive back at the troll's camp to see my poor brother already roasting on their spit I just knew it!

It seemed to take an age to get back to where I had left my brother. Just as I realised we were drawing very near we heard commotion up ahead – no doubt they were sharpening their best skinning knives and arguing about the best way to cook a one hobbit and a very young dwarf – suddenly I heard squeals of pain and my brother's voice interrupting them, ordering them to 'DROP HIM'. I had no doubt as to whom he was referring to, I was shocked Bilbo had lasted this long! All the same, I had never been so happy to hear my foolish younger brother's voice – if he was able to make demands then he was not dead. This was a good thing indeed for when I got my hands on him I intended to murder him myself. What was he thinking? Three trolls. Three huge trolls. And he was making demands of them. Alone. The little  _fool_.

Blessedly close, I heard Bilbo cry out and saw him flung down though I could not see him hit the earth. Finally –  _finally_  – the first of our company broke into the camp, Thorin and Gloin at the head. Entering the fray myself, I tripped and fell as I came across my brother lying prone on the earth, Bilbo atop him. Grabbing Bilbo up and setting him on his feet, I hauled Kíli to me and we embraced for a fraction of a second before I had to shove him away to avoid us both being crushed by a troll's fist.

It was a mistake. I spent the rest of the fight struggling to get back to him; to my frenzied mind it was as though he was as set on avoiding me as he was our combatants – more so in fact, if the number of times he was very nearly crushed was anything to go by. Every time I thought I had him I would turn away for a second and he'd be off again, ducking and slicing at their huge legs as he slid perilously close to their enormous great feet. And oh! All I could think of was what my Uncle had said the previous night. I could not let that happen – I  _would not_ let that happen to my precious younger brother!

At one point, in the process of knocking Ori from within one of the creatures' grasps I found myself flung to the side and lay there for a moment in a sort of pain-filled haze in such intense pain that I could scarce breathe from it. Perhaps as thanks, I found my recovery being courageously defended by Nori before suddenly everything went disturbingly quiet and still. Alarm filling his eyes, Nori turned and helped me up supporting me with one arm. As in pain and terrified for Bilbo's sake as I was, I could have cried from the relief of seeing my brother – seeming to be blessedly unharmed – being held back by Thorin's restraining arm. If the slight tightening on my arm and soft, disbelieving sigh was anything to go by, Nori felt quite the same to see his own brothers standing beside them.

That relief was short-lived as we followed Thorin's example, laying down our weapons and stepping back that they might be grabbed up by our captors. They made short work of bagging us up though in truth we put up very little fight – we could do no more for fear of losing Bilbo – and throwing half of us into a pile before preparing to spit roast the others. Though in a most inconvenient position, it did afford me the opportunity to wriggle closer to Kíli who still seemed mostly outraged than injured. From somewhere behind me, I could hear Balin and Thorin muttering to each other – I hoped they had a plan because my own mind was entirely blank but for the part of me that was praising Aüle and just about every ancestor in his halls for my brother's (and of course everyone else's) continued existence.

"Fíli?"

"What?" I whispered, attempting but failing to roll the right way up in my sack.

"Are you very hurt?"

Aüle bless him. With a great deal of quite painful wriggling and flexing about, I was just about able to move enough that I could nudge at Kíli's ankles with my head. Hardly reassuring – or remotely useful – but the contact soothed some innermost part of me that was certain Kíli would be safer if I could only reach out and touch him. "No," I reassured him, grunting as he accidentally kicked me in the face, shifting himself lower down towards me, "Are you?" I was vaguely aware of others around us having much the same conversation, though interspersed with hopelessly ambitious escape plans.

"No…perhaps a little," he admitted quietly, as though ashamed to say so. I felt my stomach lurch; when it came to being injured, Kíli's idea of his being 'a little' hurt was very different to my own. I felt utterly hopeless. My poor brother was injured and tied up in a sack waiting to be roasted alive to feed three foul trolls and it was all I could do to roll over, let alone get up and defend him! Completely unable to do any more, I rubbed my face against his shin slightly (though the rough burlap chafed mightily), he seemed slightly comforted. I felt him shift as if straining to look elsewhere and I hoped he could not see what I could.

Mahal save us, we were going to be roasted alive.

We would never see home again. We would never see Erebor  _at all_. Our Mother would never know what had happened to us – both of her sons and her beloved older brother eaten by trolls and she would never even know! We would vanish into the world just as Thrain had and – Where was our Uncle? He could not let this happen – he would not! Thorin would have a plan. Uncle  _always_ had a plan, always knew what to do. Why did he not  _do_ something? We were going to die – Kíli was going to die – outwitted by three stupid, brutish mountain trolls and  _surely_ Thorin had some sort of plan?!

"Kíli," I said breathlessly, straining to see him (or Thorin), "…ask Thorin, what do we do?"

I heard him murmuring above me, Thorin replying in deep, quiet tones.

"Can you use your knife?" Kíli asked me quietly.

In all the commotion and terror, I had quite forgotten I even  _had_ other knives about me. I shifted, bringing my knees up as high as I could within the bag, trying to reach the weapon I had strapped inside my boot; it was no bigger than a letter knife but I had always kept it sharp. Grunting, I felt my fingers brush the very top of the handle but restrained as I was, I could not get any purchase on it with which to withdraw it. I could not stand it! It was absolutely, positively the most wretchedly useless I had felt in all my life – my little brother and my Uncle were almost certainly about to die –  _horribly_  – simply because I could not puzzle my way out of a sack!

"Kíli, I can't reach!" I told him and I vow I was near weeping from frustration and  _shame_.

Suddenly, I was aware of Bilbo standing –  _how in Durin's name…_? – and speaking to our captors about….the proper seasoning for dwarves. If I could only have gotten up, I'd have knocked him down – the little weasel! We did not  _have_  to come and help him! We could very well have stayed out of it and left him to it, thank you very much! We'd none of us be in this mess and I would not be facing watching my brother be cooked alive in front of me and we'd all have a great deal less to worry about without a ridiculously naïve little hobbit slowing us down or jumping at shadows every five minutes. If I had been able to reach, I'd have bitten his great hairy feet, the treacherous little toad!

And then one of the loathsome creatures reached down and grabbed up poor Bombur, ready to swallow him whole – seasoning or no! But suddenly Bilbo was warning them about infections and worms and all manner of nonsense and was it not enough that he was getting us eaten? Must he insult us as well? With a shriek, the troll flung Bombur back down on top of us and off Bilbo went, railing about parasites and infections and of course, my brother could not allow that. Injured or no, most of our company (led by my particularly indignant brother) were shouting and protesting the hobbit's claims. Suddenly, I felt Kíli jerk as though something or someone had hit him and they all went very silent before:

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!"

"Mine are the biggest parasites – I've got  _huge_ parasites!"

Clearly, the hobbit was not as naïve as he seemed. Soon we were each of us loudly claiming to be the most infected of all, it was ridiculous – laughable even – but clearly no one else had a plan and I myself was at a complete loss.

"We're riddled with them!" I added hopefully.

Alas it was not to be. Like Bilbo, the trolls were clearly not as foolish as they seemed. We were all going to die. Smaug the Terrible had failed to end Durin's line, Azog had been destroyed whilst trying and yet here, over a hundred leagues from our home, Durin's line was about to be utterly quashed by three of the ugliest, foulest, most dim-witted creatures I had ever seen. And I could not escape that accursed sack even to attempt to protect my Uncle or brother one last time.

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!"

Never in all my life have I been so grateful for sunlight. I could have cried from the relief – I certainly would not have been the only one to do so. As it was, there was a good deal of laughter and great shouts of delight as Gandalf descended and began untying ropes and helping to lever the spit off the fire to release Dwalin and the others, muttering all the while about the foolishness and stubbornness of dwarves and how he had warned us to go on further last night.

Finally free of my restraints, I sought out my brother at last.

"Fíli!" In his haste, Kíli caught one foot in his sack, sending him careening into me with a force that near knocked me flat.

 _Kíli_. For what seemed like the longest while, I could think no further than the fact that we were free and that my brother was once more safe, enfolded in my arms and trembling something fierce. Or perhaps it was I who trembled. Eventually, when it seemed we had both calmed somewhat, I pushed him back from me, staring urgently into his eyes.

"Where are you hurt?" For a moment, he looked almost confused before coming back to himself and drawing up one sleeve. I breathed a sigh of relief; though long and no doubt very painful, the cut was shallow, as if he had  _just_ been caught by the creature's blade as he passed. By Durin's beard, he had been unbelievably fortunate. Not to mention outrageously careless– how  _dare_ he take such risks with his own life? He had as good as given me his  _word_! He had been injured during the fray; that was all very well and good (though the thought of it still made me feel somewhat ill) but to have thrown himself into a battle where he was outnumbered three to one and facing foes he had never come across before with no clear idea of when or even  _if_ I would be arriving with reinforcements was just…there were simply no words in Westron or Khuzdul for it.  _How dare he?!_

Some indication of my fury must have shown upon my face for Kíli shot me a wide-eyed look of such innocent confusion that had I been any less acquainted with him, I might have honestly thought myself mistaken – no one could be so completely unaware of having committed such folly.

"What were you  _thinking_?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice hushed. I did not wish to draw attention to our quarrel, not when our party was so shaken by the night's events but…"You little  _fool_! You could have been killed!"

"Bilbo needed my help – they were going to  _eat_ him," he protested, still the picture of wide-eyed innocence though I could see the telltale flush creeping up.

"I don't  _care_ , Kíli, they could have – " I broke off as I saw Thorin approaching. As angry as I was and as tempting as it might have been at that particular moment to bring our uncle's wrath down upon my brother, I had had a lifetime of keeping silent about my brother's occasional feats of complete and utter stupidity; I did not intend to stop now. Besides, given that I did not intend to let Kíli out of my sight until his centenary – possibly not even then – there would be plenty of time to continue our 'discussion' later.

"Uncle!"

Kíli threw himself at our uncle with almost as much enthusiasm as he had done with me, and in fact was probably received with just as much. As tall as he was now, I vow he nearly disappeared within our uncle's furs so tightly did they embrace. I was no less thankful to see him; in fact, given our current relationship I was probably even more relieved than Kíli to see him alive and well. The very idea that Thorin could have gone to the halls of Aule with  _this_ still lying unresolved between us  _hurt_. Even so, I could not bring myself to join them – not while this distance remained between us – I did not wish to  _cheapen_  our reconciling by doing so in the aftershocks of a fray. There could be no question now that I would fix this thing – and today – but I would not do so right now nor did I wish to begin any discussion of it whilst I was so utterly furious about other matters.

"This will need to be taken care of," my Uncle was saying now, looking over my brother's wound carefully and valiantly ignoring Kíli's involuntary attempts to pull away from his inspection.

"Do you suppose it will scar?" Kíli asked hopefully once Thorin had released him.

"Time will tell," Thorin replied evasively. Truthfully, I highly doubted it would; we had probably both taken deeper wounds during training though I am certain it must have stung mightily. Suddenly, Thorin turned his gaze on me and I felt my throat constrict. "Fíli, are you hurt?"

I opened my mouth to speak but thought better of it, instead settling for shaking my head stiffly. Casting his eyes over me again, he turned away.

"Gandalf and I believe there must be a cave nearby," Thorin announced, calling the attention of our companions, "Their hoard may hold items of use to us. We must find it ere we set out but stay together! If trolls have become so brazen as to venture this far south, there may well be fouler things about than them in these parts. Keep your eyes open, all of you."

With that, he set off, my brother following in his wake like a puppy. I laughed incredulously – sometimes, I wondered if my brother possessed an ounce of adult dignity in his entire body – though I fell into step with Kíli anyway. Ahead, Thorin paused and turned to look at me queerly, something between anger and uncertainty. It was not until much later that the thought occurred to me that he had thought I was laughing at him.

* * *

"I'm just saying what would you have done?" Kíli huffed, raising his hands in frustration.

We had been at it for several hours now, and clearly he was not going to concede the point but frankly neither was I. If nothing else, I hoped he might think twice in the future if only to avoid my lecturing him. Also, though I did not like to admit it, I would most likely have done exactly the same thing as he had. Except I would have done so without getting hurt.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him break a few leaves off a birch tree as we passed it. I could not decide whether I was still annoyed enough at him to ruin his fun and put an end to his ridiculous ' _Fill Big Brother's Hood With Lots of Strange Leaves'_  game or whether to just let him be and get him back for it later somehow. For now, I considered I was generous enough to allow him his childishness a while longer. To be perfectly honest, I was relieved that he seemed his usual impish self; after this morning, I had worried he might be mildly traumatised –  _I_ certainly felt it! But then Kíli always had shown a distressing propensity to forget the perils he had walked into once he was removed from them. It was primarily the reason I had not left Kíli's side all morning. Within me, there was a nagging fear that the moment I stepped away from him, some great foe would come upon us again, we would be separated, and not even Gandalf would be able to save us this time.

Besides which, I was still planning what I was going to say to Thorin; I was not so foolish as to believe either of us harboured any ill-feeling towards the other anymore – narrowly avoiding being roasted alive will do that, I suppose – but I was worried all the same.

Still, we were going along quite merrily now, despite our troubled night, and the entire company seemed to have been cheered by our discovery of the troll hoard. I could not help but notice poor Ori, pale as anything still, stuck decidedly closer to his brother's though; I had every sympathy with both him and his elder brothers, I was certainly doing everything I could to stay by  _my_ brother's side today. The earth was still treacherous from yesterday's rainfall so we were not riding which, on reflection, was probably just as well or I suspect I might have had to insist Kíli rode with me instead of on his own mount. He'd have pleaded and sulked about it all day but at least I'd have known exactly where he was at all times…these past couple of days seemed to have turned me into as much of a clucking old hen as Dori.

"Kíli!" I exclaimed as I walked straight into him. I ducked around him, wondering what on earth he could have seen to have made him stop so suddenly. Nothing. I could see nothing ahead to have caused alarm or shock or anything really, so why…? I turned to him, concerned.

He blinked at me innocently for all of a few seconds before breaking out into a devilish grin and pulling my hood (still full of leaves) up over my head before dashing off up to the front of the party, weaving in between our fellows as he did so. Very well, if it was a chase my little brother was after…

And we were off.

I am embarrassed to say that our games went on quite a while – much to our companions'' entertainment– and we were even cheered on by a few of our company. Eventually though it seemed even Kíli was getting tired – just as well since I was not sure how much more I could have run with my ribs aching as they were – and we settled down to walk again like good, respectable dwarves for a brief time before Kíli somehow slipped my notice. I had a brief moment of panic before I spied him wandering back down our line to Gandalf and Bilbo. Well, if anyone were to babysit him today, I'd rather it was Gandalf – at least he wouldn't put up with any of Kíli's nonsense. Still, it left me at rather a loose end; I knew all along that my watchfulness was grating on my brother so I could hardly drop back to walk with him now.

Thorin it was then.

I stopped off to one side, waiting for Thorin to catch up with me before falling in to step beside him. It was…awkward. All thought of what I had planned to say had quite flown from my mind.

"Thank you," I told him, turning my eyes skyward so as to avoid having to look at him.

There was a pause before, "Whatever for?"

For a moment, I congratulated myself on finally having confounded my uncle to the point where he allowed himself to express it.

"We didn't get eaten."

I could  _feel_ the blush creeping up my neck; I sounded ridiculous. This was not the speech of two people who had known one another eighty two years, we were speaking like strangers – polite, _careful_  – it was worse than shouting at each other. There was a long pause before he answered me. I wondered what he was thinking about, whether he was angry at our having caused it in the first place or whether he recognised it as the foolish mistake it had been.

"I did very little."

I smiled – he had rallied our company, thrown himself headlong into almost entirely unknown dangers to aid Kíli, surrendered the field to prevent one of our party suffering a most agonising death and been the only one amongst us intelligent to recognise the Bilbo's rouse for what it was.  _Obviously_ , he had hardly helped at all.

"Kíli would have gone on like that forever – his pride was hurt. ' _Infected_ ' indeed." From the corner of my eye, I could see him smiling slightly, no doubt recalling my brother's outraged protests. I took a deep breath, finally forcing myself to look him in the eye. "I thought we might die this morning. I kept thinking about what you said about Frerin, well, no, about  _Kíli_." After all, how could I forget the images that had plagued my dreams that night or the waking nightmare that was this morning?

For a moment, I wondered if he would speak at all. He had gone very pale; I began to wish I had not mentioned my later uncle.

"I…I oughtn't to have…Frerin's death weighs heavily on me," I stopped, shocked. I do not believe I had ever heard him speak his brother's name before, I had known about him, certainly and my Mother spoke of him occasionally but Thorin… "It grows worse each day the closer we come to Moria and I cannot – I  _will_ not – allow you or anyone else to think that those  _monsters_  are something to be laughed at. But…I should not have said such things to you;  _you_  should not think of things like that." He broke off, looking away from me.

I understood what he had meant though – ' _you_  should not think of things like that' – that he thought me too young to know the truth of battle, of how easily a life can be ended. I was beginning to feel that way myself but there it was. Suddenly, a realisation came to me, one that made my stomach clench at the very thought of it.

"You were younger than even Kíli, Frerin even more so."

"Yes, I must have been," he admitted, seeming almost surprised at the realisation. I wanted to offer him comfort, to tell him I did not need him to say any more but I sensed somehow that he had more yet to say if I would only let him.

"You have never spoken of his death," I prompted quietly. As far as I knew, he had never even discussed it with my mother – his own sister – and Kíli and I had been warned from a young age that we must never  _ever_ speak to him of Frerin unless Thorin brought him up first.

"I saw him carried off, and I could not get to him…He died  _cursing_  my name." For several agonising moments, I thought my Uncle might break down entirely – I could already see his eyes were glistening – and I could not have blamed him if he had. I had known from stories told by others – Balin, in particular – that Frerin's death had been somewhat…gruesome, particularly since he had been so young at the time – almost half my age. But to hear it spoken in such plain terms, not just now but several nights ago too, it was horrifying. I felt as though every story my childhood had been a lie – where was the dignity or greatness – the  _honour_  – in such young men, children really, being slaughtered as animals while their kin looked on helpless to stop it? Unable to help myself, I reached out both my hands to cling to one of my uncle's, feeling the strength in it even whilst he barely realised I was doing so.

Suddenly seeming to return from the nightmare he was no doubt replaying in his mind, he closed his eyes briefly. I pretended not to have noticed the single, tiny droplet that slowly made its way down his face. Opening overly bright eyes once more, he raised my hand in his own.

"Oh, Fíli, please forgive me," he implored suddenly, squeezing my hand almost painfully tight and raising it to his lips.

"Of course!" I said immediately – as if there had been any doubt in the matter! I had absolutely no idea what else to say to him. I could not recall ever having seen him look so beside himself or so discomposed by anything other than his temper. I glanced at him apprehensively, wondering whether I should or even  _could_  let him on the joke Kíli and I had perfected over years of hearing him repeat the same phrase to us over and over (for, it had to be said, we gave him much occasion to do so). "Though it was badly done, Uncle. Very badly done."

He glared at me and briefly, I sincerely regretted my teasing but then: "I couldn't agree more," he said, shaking his head fondly. I joined him in his hesitant laughter before suddenly his previous, far darker speech entered my mind.

"Not Kíli, I'll never take my eyes off him," I swore, staring at him earnestly. I meant it too; as ridiculous as it was, even standing here with him was causing me to have niggling concerns as to my brother's whereabouts. "Not Kíli, Uncle,  _never_  Kíli."

He stared at me for a moment, slightly reddened eyes searching mine. "No, not Kíli," he agreed gently, bringing his hands up to my face and laying his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes. "And not you."

It occurred to me, in some abstract way, that he was in all likelihood simply telling me what I wanted to hear – I was far too old by now to be thinking that my uncle, however strong or mighty he seemed to my brother and me, could see all ends – but in that moment, I truly did not care. As it had with Kíli earlier, my world seemed to have faded until all that was left – all that mattered – was my uncle's somewhat tremulous breathing and warm hands against my face. I was suddenly entirely ashamed of myself for allowing what now seemed such a trivial, silly little thing come between us – it had been a terrible shock and I had admittedly been beyond hurt by his actions not to mention his complete inability to admit he had been wrong (up until now at least). But really, in all honesty, what did it matter? One moment of grief and anger fuelled madness against a lifetime of being cared for, protected, and  _loved_ by him? As it had several days ago (which had felt like months), the thought of losing my uncle hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Or you?" I am not in the slightest bit ashamed to admit I may have  _whimpered_  it.

His reply came immediately. "Not me either. We are the last of our house," he said, firmly pressing dry lips to my temple, "we go together or not at all."

The promise of the complete ending of Durin's line –  _our_  line – had never sounded so reassuring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was it folks, final chapter. Thank you for coming along on this ride with me, I've enjoyed it a lot and I hope you have too. I hope you will all leave nice long comments - those of you who have done so before know how happy they make me! If you don't have a lot to say, I like one liners almost as much, just a quick note to say whether you've enjoyed it or not.
> 
> Thank you, Tia_Pixie.


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